iPod's Untimely Demise
And in all that time, I've never managed to lose, break, or otherwise damage a single one of those glorious little bricks of digital joy. Until now.
And in all that time, I've never managed to lose, break, or otherwise damage a single one of those glorious little bricks of digital joy. Until now.
Typekit finally makes using high-quality fonts on the web viable, highly compatible, standards-based, and simple!
Try to control your excitement.
My father was admitted into the hospital on Sunday, June 17th with a life-threatening infection.
It was a happy (and successful) conspiracy; I had no clue.
A Joy of Life is to Behold...
Tyler, Tina & Isaac Smith
I was delighted to find that I had been beaten up by people I've never met...
Frantic groups meet, discuss, explain, socialize and disband
I couldn't be more proud. I'd like to thank the academy. And Google.
Six Apart is a company with savvy people, great ideas, and well-designed applications.
And so it is that questions are forgotten.
I may never leave my house again.
What do you think?
Nevermind the bugs.
Are you excited? I am.
When, you ask? Soon.
My yet-to-get-to reading list has surpassed the 1 foot mark...
Armed with this new knowledge, I set about practicing the effect.
I am emotionally attached to my Believer subscription...
Another design concept...
But reading was uncomfortable.
Sometimes all you can do is burn it.
Another redesign sketch...
Silent chaos everywhere. Muted catastrophe.
The seeds of discontent are brewing...
Eric Idle is the sixth nicest member of the old Monty Python group...
The current design is beginning to wear on me...
More from 'Housekeeping: doodlemonger.com Design Mods & Additions' »
If this doesn�t make you drool, I don�t know what will.
Josh is a 17 year old pianist/composer/performer...
I discovered I had missed it completely. The realization stung.
With each loss I would like to consider the gulf narrowing...
And with any luck it may even smell good.
How would you rate my work ethic?
Again and again I am instructed to take better care of my mouth...
I thought this an ominous sign.
Thoughts cut between pages smelling of ink and blades and textured wood.
Beautiful, hardbound, and smelling of freshly pressed literature.
Perhaps it is for the best.
I've experienced a hunger of late to read, and am indulging.
"For fear will rob him of all if his gives too much."
The tones have no source; they are in my mind, audibly glowing.
I realized that I needn't continue to pay for the privilege to curse daily.
I continue to be entranced by the elegance of this game...
I am not unreasonable. I work in technology.
The fraying, curling edges give it character, and in a way I'm sad that it's filling up.
Why don't we try to destroy tropical cyclones by nuking them?
The wedding was this last weekend and everything went very, very well.
I imagine Chabon in front of his computer, writing the bit about the only copy of Grady Tripp's monstrosity of a novel blowing away in the wind with a huge smile on his face...
McSweeney's Quarterly Concern Issue #11 is here!
The redesign will move to a more sexy, sleek and svelt style of markup that strives to separate content from formatting.
It all started with the novel idea that I ought to change the way individual entries are named on doodlemonger.com.
I learned a very valuable fact this week: hot grease burns skin.
I'm of course tortured by the insipid thought that my entries never actually even got where they needed to go.
The excitement is tangible; textured even.
There is a fiction contest in the Chico News & Review with a specification of exactly 59 words.
There are stories to be told.
The reflection reminded me of some kind of liquid -- oil perhaps; something thick and angry.
There charged the air from mountain's top-
Four hundred ninety seven pages of serif-fonted, two columned goodness.
Imagine the trumpets blaring something vaguely recognizable in the background as the banner drops and everyone gasps with delight: The Wedding of Tina & Tyler
This, naturally, requires time and effort.
And yet, to hear the voice, and to see the human being, makes him more real, more accessible.
I am that two-year-old with an impossible grin
I do believe I will be playing much more of this game.
"What is wrong is the design of the technology that requires people to behave in machine-centered ways, ways for which people are not well suited" - Don Norman
The man I had been talking to wasn't a man at all.
I know it's odd, but I imagine us as grandparents, and fabulous grandparents at that.
Brugge, The Lake of Love, Belgium
Two years ago today I stood and took this photograph.
It is always at these times that an ache to travel back arises too, as if the gathering clouds of time between the memory and now with force compound the need.
Perhaps somewhere in the shuffle between Zambiland and the Dutch East Indies, Kansas, Nebraska and Missouri failed to lodge themselves firmly in my brain.
Whilst bouncing about from blog to blog in the wide-wide world of nonsensical prose, I came across WIL WHEATON DOT NET. I don't know why I'm surprised that it exists. I'm not even sure why I'm surprised that he writes...
This is an altogether odd experience indeed; to reflect on one's own inability to develop or maintain coherent thoughts...
I was digging through the "Archive" folder on my computer, looking for things I had forgotten about...
I remember losing ten minutes and sensing no more than two seconds pass. I assume I slept. I can't be sure.
I am what I understand, and even if that understanding is flawed, I act upon that which I know.
I listen, and smile, and am at peace.
These gaps punctuate my life at odd intervals; periods where commas should have been.
The scam operates on the collective vanity of a large population of amateur poets.
I remember nothing of the entire affair aside from that single image.
Upgrade, for goodness sake.
I have been linked to.
There was a great sense of panic and discomfort and loss.
I have established a routine.
The droplets look dangerously ambiguous and far too close to the zipper to be considered "accidental."
Chabon's writing style inspires me to no end, and pushes me to pursue reading and writing more.
If nothing else, it looks neat.
I was once asked to write something about myself to provide material for an awards banquet.
In a year I will marry the love of my life and my best friend, and I can't wait...
Naps are too often missed.
After a few days the organization seems foreign to me.
Ever wondered what it's like to have 20/200 vision? Wonder no more.
Apparently, Jesus and having a well trained dog are the answers to life's problems. And it's done in your very own home. While-you-wait, I expect.
More often than not I feel like I've stolen something.
For some reason the odds of a malfunctioning piece of technology righting itself unassisted are significantly less reassuring than those that it will randomly fail to function properly - I'm convinced.
Oh, and welcome to the rather sparely (i.e. non) marketed launch of doodlemonger.com. I'm taking my cues from George Lucas.
I could feel my conciousness slip and everything lose solidity - my chair and legs bowing beneath me and my surroundings put on "mute."
No one ever actually met or saw the computer operators; it was thought that they came out at night to collect the punch cards and feast on virgin blood...
Always hovering in the back of my mind is The Reader.